Birthday Wish
by Cybaster
Summary: (BoF2 Spoiler Warning) Even rebels have birthdays --- and Claris is no exception. But is it wrong for Claris to be wishing for Tiga's heart when there is still a war erupting around them?


_Author's Note_: So I was replaying BoF2 on the GBA and then I got to arguably my favorite scene in the game (two guesses what), and my second thought was "That's just _insane_! A Habaruku Custom Bolt X does _that_ much damage to Tiga!?" My first thought was, of course, self-explanatory, so this fic centers on none other than Claris herself for that purpose. ; On a final note, if anyone --- _anyone_ --- knows if Capcom ever made an official last name for Claris other than just 'Claris P.', be a good guy/girl/creature and let me know what it is?

_Disclaimer_: Everything here, save the fic itself and Claris' last name since I don't know it, is created by Capcom. Simple as that.

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_Birthday Wish_   
A Breath of Fire 2 ficlet by Cybaster

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It had been as much festivity in CotLand than it has been for a long while.

The reprieve, of course, had not been unwelcome. With the broken-down, wooden house that was the CotLand Resistance's main briefing room turned into a center for the festivities, in fact, everyone was expecting and more than _ready_ for a break; after all, they deserved one, especially after all the fighting they've done against the tyranny that was the St. Eva Church, and if there was one lesson to be learned as a member of the resistance, it was to take everything given to you...

"Come on, come on, make a wish!"

The room was only minimally decorated for the occasion; while the briefing room was as clean and free of dust as worldly possible, the only decorations that lined its interior were the few pink ribbons hung loosely from the ceiling rafters, overall a crude attempt to make the occasion as lively as possible. As someone cried that out, the room fell silent and dark at once at that beckoning; the packed, enthusiastic crowd gathered around the big wooden table at the center of the briefing room bit their lips almost completely in unison, waiting for what was next. Their eyes, stress-free for once and joyous, were trained on the table and the one person seated behind it; a girl, blue-haired and with very noticeable bat wings who leaned against the wall behind this crowd, instead practically had her eyes on the plain-looking cake on the table top. The silence was next to complete otherwise. The stage was set.

The heroine of the hour, a young woman seated in the middle of the crowds, closed her eyes gently at the beckoning and clasped her hands to her chest in turn. She was a sight that stood out among the rest, by all means beautiful to most, light peach-hued skin on a slender, fit body and long, shapely legs; a fine flow of fiery-looking orange hair shone brightly in the sole lighting in the room, the lit candle placed onto the top of the cake, while smart-looking green eyes likewise glimmered with unspoken liveliness. Her ruby red lips were pursed tight, no whisper escaping her tongue, while her heart silently began composing the words that would be her wish for this year, wanting so much to make it count...

The heroine's name was Claris Pastelle.

Today was her birthday, and this was her wish.

And her wish, Claris quickly realized with slight sadness, was the one same wish she had held in her heart ever since she had joined the CotLand Resistance to fight the expansion of the St. Eva Church, one which --- so far --- hadn't come true. And with Claris' luck, she knew, that one wish probably never _will_ come true if the ancient Dragon God of old could help it. There were just so many things in the wish's way, so many things that took priority over her one little wish; St. Eva's existence _alone_ would put everything else aside, and at most Claris probably would never get that wish until St. Eva was completely destroyed, and the CotLand Resistance's mission was complete.

But despite everything, Claris couldn't help herself. She wanted so much for her wish to come true.

_I wish someday he'll know my feelings for him, and that someday he'll feel for me, too. _

The wish hadn't changed at all since a year ago, and as quickly as the wish was planned, the wish was likewise made. Claris then opened her eyes and blew the candle out with one quick breath from her lips, sealing the pact. Knowing this and knowing that she could only otherwise hope, Claris sighed; a light came back on, illuminating the briefing room once more and signalling the real start of the festivities that was Claris' birthday party in CotLand

Everyone cheered, and predictably began gathering around to cut a share of the cake. The cake, compared to the normal meals the Resistance members managed to muster in Cotland, was a perpetual feast in itself --- everyone, naturally, wanted a piece of it, and as this went on Claris only stared mutely at the crowd, passively looking for the one other face in the CotLand Resistance that mattered, that should've been here. She couldn't see him at all --- and she was a little afraid to ask.

The fear was out of character for Claris Pastelle, arguably the most fearless member of the CotLand Resistance save _him_, but it was a price she wanted to pay for her wish to come true, if depending on him meant she'll win his heart. The question was, however, if doing so was what she should actually be doing; Claris will be forced to find an answer to that sooner than she thought.

"So, what'd you wish for this year, Claris?"

The voice, curious and prodding, was easily recognizable enough; while the cake was being and cut and divided amongst the Resistance without Claris, the young woman turned to see the bat-winged girl leaning over Claris' shoulder, poking her head out from behind the crowd and effectively fighting her way to her new target before it got divided without her. Claris smiled wryly at her for that; it was predictable as well that Patty Smith, Phantom Thief, secret sponsor of the CotLand Resistance and --- at least in her opinion, anyway --- as much a part of it as the frontline fighters and spies were, wouldn't in the world want to miss out on such a big part of the Resistance as dividing Claris' birthday cake. "Yeah, yeah, I know that if you speak it out loud it supposedly won't come true, but c'mon, like it'll come true anytime before we even take St. Eva down..."

Claris wished, outside of her birthday wish, that Patty's words didn't ring so truthfully. Her smile died a little at that; she didn't want to tell Patty her wish, not to anybody. "I know, yes," Claris answered with a frown. "But I _do_ want to believe. Sorry, Patty."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Patty replied, a hint of mischeviousness in her voice. She inched forward a bit more, almost to the now half-divided plain butter cake that was her main prize at the moment. "You're not _that_ unpredictable, after all, Claris. I can take a wild guess what your guess is already. Heck, I'd probably be right, too!"

Patty's comment actually sounded so confident that Claris used up every ounce of her resolve to keep from blushing; did she honestly know? If _Patty_ of all people knew what she was wishing for, Claris realized to her chagrin well enough, things could get embarassing and awkward _really_, really quickly. Stifling her nervousness and calming down, Claris did her best to look nonchalant. "So you do, do you, Patty?"

Claris Pastelle and Patty Smith never really _were_ the best of friends in the Resistance.

"Mmm hmm!" Patty's reply was impeccable, and coincided with her first touch of her share of the birthday cake that she had carved out for herself, a fluffy triangle of buttery sweet bread that had been baked with as much love as the Resistance had hatred for St. Eva in the first place. Claris absently looked around, beginning to feel a little disappointed; _he_ was still nowhere in sight, and had probably decided to sit this one out for some reason. "You probably wished that this whole darn war would end tomorrow, right?"

That caught Claris off-guard, even moreso than the relief she felt that Patty's guess was ultimately wrong. The blond-haired young woman quickly realized a problem: _How am I supposed to tell her that I didn't_? Claris didn't thought she'd ever be stumped by this; Patty never asked until now, and she had already been in the Resistance the year before. What would people say in reaction to that? What did Patty want to know?

"You wished that St. Eva, wherever he is, would just drop dead all of a sudden of natural or unnatural causes --- personally I prefer a Bolt X from Ladon to the head---" Patty continued, retreating closer to Claris while holding her share of the cake. "---And this whole mess would be over, right? We'd have won, and we won't have to fight anymore, and we'd all go back to our normal, even _boring_ lives one evil less in this world, hmm? Is that right, Claris?"

For once in her life, Claris Pastelle didn't know how to answer her question. She nodded mutely, wishing Patty couldn't guess that Claris was lying.

"See?" Patty took a bite of her cake, muffling the next few words from her. Claris could only stare at Patty blankly for it until Patty noticed, for which the Phantom Thief shrugged casually and smiled with her usual callousness at the birthday girl. "Whaaaaaat? So I got it right; it's perfectly okay to have wasted your wish, y'know. Knowing you, you probably don't have your mind on anything else, hero that you are!"

"...What did you say?"

"I said, Claris, it's okay to have wasted your wish. We'd all understand." Patty continued, and the impact of her words --- unknown to Patty herself --- stumped Claris again. Looking down and emptily at the remains of the divided cake, Claris seemed suddenly blank at a prospect. "We all wish for this mess to end, moreso than anything else, because you have to admit that it _is_ getting messy. Who knows if we'll even succeed or not? But we have to try, I know, don't lecture me on that, Claris. It's not like it's in you to be wishing for anything else, y'know, I'm not as strong as you are, I know, I know, mmmph, mmmf..."

Another cake bite muffled Patty's last few syllables, but that was enough. Claris suddenly didn't feel too well; it was as obvious as the bitter, retching feeling that worked its way into her heart, realizing something wasn't right with what she thought _was_ alright. It was all Claris could do to keep from shivering; how was she going to get out of this? If anyone found out...

"Claris? Hello, Ladon to Claris, are you still with us?"

"Y-yes?" Claris hastily replied when she realized Patty, despite having cake to occupy her, was gazing and gawking at her in confusion and strangeness. Realizing what Patty was going to ask next didn't make Claris feel any better; either way, Claris suddenly felt as if she didn't want to be around anymore, around anyone, be anywhere else in CotLand other than inside her own party lest someone else ask her the same thing...

She needed to be alone. She needed to sort this something out.

"You okay? Maybe you should have some cake; it's almost all gone, y'know---"

Claris decided then and there that she had to leave. Immediately. She stood up to Patty's surprise and shook her head.

"N-no, Patty, you go ahead. I'm not hungry."

And at that, Claris didn't wait for Patty to reply before all but _storming_ herself out of the briefing room and into the CotLand night air outside, deathly quiet. Patty didn't even have time to ponder what it was she said that got Claris all riled up all of a sudden --- a young woman like Claris Pastelle simply did _not_ refuse cake on her own birthday, no matter who baked it, unless something was wrong such as an attack by St. Eva Paladins --- but then a third bite of said cake enveloped Patty's thoughts quickly and all was promptly forgotten save one.

"_Why, you're very much welcome, Claris_," Patty whined between cake bites, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Claris was sometimes a _very_ strange young woman. "It was the least a sponsoring Phantom Thief could do to get her hands dirty and actually _bake_ you the cake with her own hands, mmph, mmf, mmmm..."

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Claris still didn't know whether or not she felt better once she was out of the briefing room, but one thing was still certain in her mind: _I wouldn't know how to have answered Patty if she asked again. How was I supposed to tell her that no, I wished for something else...**that**, no less! ...instead of us winning the whole war and ending the mess? How can I answer her without sounding so **selfish**!? What have I gotten myself into, if anything?_

_I don't really know anymore_, Claris Pastelle sighed in sadness to herself. _But that's not even the real problem..._

Because Claris soon found out, and her heart didn't feel any worse because of it, that bitter feeling she felt when Patty said what she did was actually a gnawing, bitter sense of _guilt_ and uncertainty. Guilt over her wish, and over many other things --- too many, Claris decided unanimously. Because if she was supposed to be wishing for something practical to the CotLand Resistance rather than what she _did_ wish for, as Patty implied, Claris would be doing this all wrong.

_Was this all wrong? Was wishing wrong? _

Right now, Claris wanted to slap herself; she had never thought farther of her wish until now --- when it was apparently too late for _her_. She had never thought of the consequences her love might brihg, and if wishing for his love was inappropriate in this messy time, the conclusion was, then _loving_ him would be inappropriate as well.

That would mean Claris _was_ being selfish when she shouldn't be.

Holding back from screaming, Claris ran over to the makeshift 'balcony' outside the briefing room and, standing there mutely, merely let the night breeze batter her body and clothes in thought. She didn't want to be selfish; she wanted to do everything right. For the Resistance, and especially for _him_. But what did it mean if doing the right thing for _him_ meant denying her own long-time dreams with him?

Claris had no answer to that.

This was a time of war, and times of war permitted next to no luxuries; Claris wasn't stupid and knew _that_ well, at least. She knew what to expect when she joined the CotLand Resistance, and knew what the consequences were if she failed, if she failed her mission. She hadn't expected an easy ride at all, and knew how difficult the road ahead was --- after all, how many other groups before her had actually taken on an entire religion, its full-strength armies, and its false God...and at least _survived_? Claris sincerely wanted to be a part of the Resistance, to fight tyranny, to prevent the world from falling under St. Eva's grasp, and she knew she would be expected to give her whole effort in fighting for the CotLand Resistance.

But, a small, barely audible sob escaped Claris' lips as she gazed at nowhere, she sincerely hadn't expected _him_ entering her life as part of the package, either, and hadn't expected to actually fall in love...but she did, and Patty's absent, probably unwitting reminder told Claris what the problem was with that --- if it was even a problem. Was it? Or was wishing for his love only putting him and the Resistance in danger in the long run?

Claris forced her eyes shut to think, but couldn't get any more than bitter sadness from her mind. It all came down to her wish. If she had wished for the war to end, it might come true sooner, but Claris wouldn't be happy with her heart; if she had wished for _him_, she might be happy at least for awhile if it came true, but she might end up giving the Resistance a weakness. Worse; she might end up hindering _him_ in the field of battle...

What Claris was left with was a simple question, neither answer pleasant.

_Should I wish, or shouldn't I wish?_

Absently falling and sitting herself onto the rocky ground, Claris couldn't force herself to choose, either. For the first time in her life, she began regretting her birthday wish in earnest...

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"What're you doing out here, Claris?"

The one voice that meant everything to the CotLand Resistance, and to Claris, thankfully broke the dimming silence that enveloped her, and shattered the heavy question she held in her heart at least temporarily; at the same time, however, it was the first _and_ last voice she wanted to hear right now, on her birthday, and Claris quickly stood herself up in startled haste at that, turning around to at least give an illusion that everything was alright. She opened her eyes again, forcing Claris to look at him; it was suddenly ironic to her that she had been longing to see him in her birthday party only minutes ago, and here she was wishing he won't see her brooding...

The large-built, muscular furry frame, the fur that ruffled in the night wind, the brown determined-looking eyes and wild appearance that stood in front of her now was the one man that Claris had wished for, and was now wondering if she should regret doing so: Tiga Lee, leader of the CotLand Resistance and the bravest, most noble-minded Woren --- the _only_ Woren, no less, but if Claris had even minded that to begin with it was far forgotten by now --- Claris had ever met. His courage was enough to make Claris love him madly, if not his determination and strength; she believed in him, and she believed that if anybody in the world could kill Habaruku and destroy the St. Eva Church for good, it was Tiga.

He was every bit the hero Claris wasn't, and inwardly she never wanted that to change.

The ferocity that had made the Woren so dangerous to the Paladins of the St. Eva Church was not visible today, however; it seemed he, too, was either expecting a break in his own way --- or simply chose to hide that in front of Claris Pastelle --- and at that moment, he only had concern for Claris' well-being in his tiger-like eyes, wondering why Claris was out here.

Claris didn't know whether to feel relieved or awkward at his presence; both were silent for a moment before Tiga prodded gently again. "What's wrong?" Tiga asked, his voice low and bearing the growl that accompanied his Woren existence. Claris said nothing, turning away. "You really should be inside enjoying yourself, Claris, at least before Patty finishes the cake for you. Is something wrong?"

It was in mental haste that Claris forced herself to say something, anything, even something to change the subject. She ended up asking a question. "N-no, Tiga," Claris answered gently. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"Are you mad at me because I'm not?"

That Claris hadn't expected, either, and she hastily turned to him --- finally looking into those eyes of his --- to correct her mistake. "No, I'm not! Really, I'm not mad at you, Tiga," _I'd never be mad at you for anything. Do you know that, Tiga?_ "I...was just wondering, that's all..."

Tiga frowned, scratching his head slightly with one of his large claws. "It's nothing, Claris. You know how much I don't like small spaces, so I thought I'd do the patrolling myself tonight in case any monsters wander in. I'm alright, don't worry; it'd take much more than a few E.Sludges to take me down."

"...I believe that."

Claris lowered her head wistfully as her earlier thoughts returned; _this_, the Woren in front of her, was the man she loved, and in an instant she suddenly realized that following her feelings was inappropriate, that by harboring those feelings Claris was potentially putting everyone yourself in danger. But she couldn't help it, and looking into Tiga's eyes reminded her of that; Claris could only look away again, averting his gaze, trying to let go but failing.

Tiga then caught it as well, even without the enhanced perceptiveness he was gifted with as a Woren. "That's not what's bothering you, is it? What's wrong? Go on, Claris, you can talk to me about it --- let it out."

Her heart wanted so much to do just that, but Claris' mind said otherwise. Silence fell again.

"...Well?"

Eventually, as Claris bit her lip mutely, her heart won out; she probably needed to ask someone, to beg for forgiveness, and Tiga was as appropriate as Resistance members go. Being careful with her words and trying not to be too obvious --- Claris couldn't bring herself to reveal the truth, not yet --- she sighed and decided to begin. "Tiga?" Claris asked. Tiga blinked in reply, waiting. "How...what would you say if someone put her needs in front of the Resistance's?"

"What do you mean?" Tiga shook his head; he didn't understand where Claris was going with this.

"What if someone, well, did something that was for themselves rather than for the Resistance when they had the chance to?" Claris frowned, still not daring to look up at Tiga. "How would you react if someone who did that was in front of you, right now?"

Tiga sneered slightly; Claris did her best not to flinch or shiver at the recognition. "Was _that_ what's bothering you, Claris? Who is this person? What did he do?"

_How would you feel about me if you knew the truth? If what I wish for was really wrong? What if you didn't want me?_

Claris paused, shuffling in discomfort and thinking desperately on how she was going to answer him. There would be no withholding any answers this time, Claris realized to her sadness; she had chosen to confide in Tiga, and now she would be responsible for the consequences. "Well, it's...it's..." Claris stumbled; taking a wistful breath, Claris made sure she was collected and prepared, as well-prepared as she could be in front of Tiga, and finished the answer.

"...It was me."

"What!?"

Even Tiga was positively surprised by Claris' answer; he blinked wildly, taking a step back, while Claris remained unmoving, trying to hide her fear. Only in front of Tiga had Claris ever felt like this, really. "It was me, Tiga. I'm sorry..."

To Claris' surprise, no loud roar of anger or growl came from Tiga; instead came a gentler whimper of confusion. "What do you mean?" Tiga asked, surprisingly gentle in his voice, looking intently at Claris. Claris couldn't bear to look up at him anymore. "What did you do, Claris? What happened?" The answer that came from Claris was out before she could even contemplate stopping herself.

"It's my birthday wish," Claris sighed. "I...didn't wish for this war to end, Tiga. I didn't even think of wishing it. I didn't. I wished for---" A quick pause, causing Tiga to blink. Claris slapped herself mentally; _I almost said it out loud! But I can't tell him, not yet, especially if he would mind_... "---I wished something for myself instead, and now I'm regretting doing so. Am I wrong, Tiga? Am I being selfish?"

"Selfish?"

A mute nod from Claris. There was another moment of awkward silence; Claris waited, bracing herself for the rebuke that was next, but none came. None, except the sudden round of roaring laughter that came from Tiga's tongue; both the volume and the surprise caused Claris to wince and expect the worst, but if she only looked, Tiga's smile would've told her that he didn't seem to mind. "Is that it, Claris? You're beating yourself and missing out on your birthday party because of one measly wish you're regretting?"

"No!" Claris cried out, against her better judgment, and finally turned to the now-surprised Tiga again; the words _measly wish_ got to her, because to Claris, it wasn't measly. The wish she made meant more to her than anything else in the world, and therein still remains the problem. "I...don't even know if I should regret the wish or if I'm wrong to be even wishing for it, but it means a _lot_ to me, Tiga. It means too much." _You mean too much to me, Tiga._ "I wished for...I don't know anymore." Claris lowered her head, taking an unconscious step away from Tiga at that, the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. She realized that if this turns out the worst --- if Tiga hated her for it --- she could simply fall off behind her and _that_ would be the end of the matter.

"I don't know if I should even be wishing or thinking of anything _but_ this war, or if doing so would put anything in danger. But I really _do_ want this wish to come true. I know, but now I can't help but feel that it's wrong. Do you understand any of this, Tiga?"

"Claris."

There was still no rebuke in Tiga's voice as he called her name, and suddenly the young woman felt Tiga's paws gently grasp her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. A gasp escaped Claris' lips. "Look at me, Claris." Tiga beckoned, and Claris absently found herself looking into the eyes of the man she longed for once more. They were staring intently at her, but the gaze was surprisingly gentle as opposed to what Claris expected; she discovered that there were so many things already she didn't expect to happen to her.

"Y-yes, Tiga?"

"I don't understand what exactly what you're talking about or know what it is you wished for," Tiga replied. Claris' heart began to quicken in anxiety. "But I know you haven't done anything wrong, Claris."

Claris blinked once in surprise. "I kn---I haven't?"

"No. It's your birthday, Claris; you're perfectly entitled to wish for whatever you want, and you shouldn't have to regret what you wish for even because of a war. The day you have to watch what you wish and pray for like that is the day St. Eva conquers this world, and I won't let that happen, Claris. I won't let you...us...be enslaved like that. And I won't let you enslave _yourself_ like that, either."

"What...what do you mean, Tiga?"

"You're only human, Claris, and a young woman at that --- the bravest young woman I've ever known in my life, but still a young woman. Even if your wish is wrong or inappropriate, it's okay to be selfish once in awhile --- we can't _always_ think about the war every minute of our day, and I don't want _you_ to, either." Tiga's gaze continued, and the words and how gentle he was being caused Claris to blush slightly; this quality, and the fact that Tiga was far from a simple brute despite his appearance, was also what Claris admired about him. "I want you to be happy, Claris, and if it does mean so much to you, I hope that your wish comes true, too. Let's make both our wishes come true, whether we wish for them or not."

Despite herself, Claris felt herself beginning to feel lighter in what was close enough to an embrace from Tiga; to hear that he wanted her to be happy made her forget half the troubles in her mind, and although she still knew wistfully that she couldn't tell Tiga the truth and about her wish, she felt that it was enough that Tiga didn't blame her, and that he felt she wasn't wrong. "Really?"

Tiga nodded. "I do. I believe in that."

"And I..." Claris whispered back. For now, everything was alright again; Tiga telling her so was enough for Claris to believe in that right away, and although he didn't know what was in her heart, the thought that Tiga agrees with her wish and wants it to come true as well was almost _intoxicating_ to the young woman.

"I believe in _you_, Tiga. Thank you."

_I still wish now that someday I can tell you_.

It was Claris that took a step forward and, again not letting herself reconsider, raise her arms to embrace Tiga, and it was an awkward, unsure Tiga Lee that then closed his arms in, watching his claws, and gently held Claris against him. The night around them shimmered, but with each other's warmth the breeze was promptly forgotten. Claris smiled to herself. So she _wasn't_ wrong, after all. She'll keep wishing, and she'll keep fighting for the world _and_ Tiga...

Tiga and Claris broke their embrace after what seemed like a good hour, but was only a minute or two.

"Will you come in and join the party, Tiga?" Claris asked, but Tiga --- still with a small smile visible on him beneath his fangs --- shook his head; the young woman looked a little disappointed at his answer, but nevertheless nodded. She'll always remember this, and seeing Claris becoming lighter-hearted again made Tiga feel a little accomplished as well, although he'll never admit it to himself. "That's too bad, then. Want me to see if I can save some cake for you?"

"That'll be lovely, Claris." Tiga replied, and nodded. "Thank Patty for me? She baked the cake herself."

"I will." With the mental image of Patty getting her hands dirty baking anything now overwriting everything else in Claris' mind, she giggled and began turning back towards the briefing room, leaving Tiga to continue his prowling outside. Claris only stopped only a few steps away from the door, and the rowdy party behind it, when Tiga called her name again, and she turned around nonchalantly and with her arms casually behind her back, feeling more refreshed than minutes ago.

"Claris?"

"Yes, Tiga?"

"...Happy birthday, Claris."

"Thank you, Tiga. Be careful." Claris' smile only widened, and feeling and knowing that part of her wish had came true that night made her feel only more content. To wish that Tiga could love her back was a wish that Claris was all too willing to keep now and, when she thought about it, didn't really regret at all, believing that Tiga would destroy St. Eva with or without wishes to help him. She never was wrong; Claris knew that now, and nobody else could tell her otherwise. And tonight, in his embrace, was the best birthday present Claris Pastelle could ever dream of receiving in her life.

Claris' heart smiled, and she continued to wish.

_Happy birthday indeed, Claris..._


End file.
